


Brother

by writermouse



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Affirmation, Amputation, Blood, Body Modification, Circumcision, Crying, Dubious Consent, Emotionally heavy, Family, MGM, Mutilation, Rites of Passage, Rituals, Rope Bondage, foreskin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writermouse/pseuds/writermouse
Summary: Korekiyo is undergoing a rite of passage to manhood in a culture that has adopted him: circumcision without anesthetic or pain relief. Two close friends he's made support him.





	Brother

**Author's Note:**

> There is inspiration for this process drawn from multiple cultures, past and present that practice ritual MGM, but this tribe is not meant to be analogous to any real world culture.

It occured to Korekiyo, not for the first time, that sometimes he took his immersive study of various cultures a bit too far. True, living the life made for the deepest possible understanding for an outsider, but it seemed his comfort, health, and safety may be supposed to be more relevant. Normally he thought this as he was trying to choke down some food with ingredients that made him gag, a smile plastered on his face, so he wouldn’t risk offense. He’d thought about it while getting the small bamboo tattoo on his lower back, a permanent reminder of a month long study, though it had, overall, been a positive experience, if a bit painful. It had occurred to him a few times when he was on his knees in front of alters to gods he didn’t believe in.

But this was a bit of a different situation. He’d lived with this group for several months and he’d fully integrated into their way of life. At least as much as he’d ever been integrated into his home culture. He’d fallen seriously ill with a parasitic infection upon first arriving and they’d treated him, likely saving his life. He’d made genuine, close friends. They’d supported him through recovery and accepted him as one of their own. He’d been contributing as he was able and moved beyond the hospitality shown a guest. He didn’t intend to leave, not for a while, and certainly not permanently.

It was time to make it official.

However, the way to mark the occasion was with blood sacrifice. One that would leave a permanent mark, and impaired function for the rest of his life. Circumcision.

They were willing to perform the ritual to mark him as a member of the tribe for life, and he was willing to undergo it for what? Curiosity? Understanding? Beauty? Nothing he could think of was worth more than the logical objections. He could stay, as a guest, without it. He wasn’t in a location wherein he could receive high quality medical care should something go wrong. There would be no pain relief or anaesthetic. This was permanent mutilation. And yet, he had every intention of going through with it.

“Are you ready?” his friend drew his attention from introspection. It was a young man, one who’d been helping him find his place in the tribal functions, they were demographically matched, his own circumcision had been less than a year ago, and he’d taught Korekiyo most of the basic information he needed to get along here. He was beautiful, playful, and charming.

Korekiyo briefly considered the answer, then nodded. “Yes. I feel some apprehension, but yes, I think I am prepared.”

His friend laughed and jostled his shoulder, “Always so formal! It’s alright to say you’re scared. I won’t say anything.”

Korekiyo smiled and nodded. He wasn’t accustomed to the demands of dropping formality for friendship, but he’d certainly been made to feel comfortable enough to do so. “I’m afraid… I’m glad you’ll be there.” He linked arms with him.

The other boy laughed, flashing a brilliant white smile. “You’re so weird. I didn’t want anyone I really knew there to see me…” he blushed, remembering how he’d cried and barely managed to keep still, even with help, “But I’ll be there for you. I’ll help hold you down.” Korekiyo was taken aback, briefly, that that was a friendly, comforting thing to say in this situation. The variance of humanity was beautiful.

“Thank you.” The walked together to the center of the village, where the elders were waiting to approve the ceremony commencing. Korekiyo was glad that it would be less public than many similar rites of passage in various cultures. He would be with one elder, the man doing the procedure, and, in his case, two friends of his choosing. Usually they would be either closest family or the assistants of the man who performed the cutting, but they allowed him a choice, as he had no family present.

“Brother!” a older, much more muscular man exclaimed, reaching first to embrace Korekiyo’s friend, his younger brother, then he reached for Korekiyo, “And new brother,” he enfolded him in a tight hug, “Starting today, you are one of us. I am so excited. We have talked it over, and we want you to move in with us. Your temporary lodgings are no good for long term and there is no need for you to live alone. Stay with us.”

The pair looked expectantly at him and Korekiyo was grateful that no one found it offensive for him to continue wearing his uniform, instead of clothing in their style, as he was able to conceal his blush behind his mask. It, however, did nothing for the tears that gathered in his eyes. To be held and accepted as a brother and offered a home, it was a bit too much to bear stoically.

“Ah, you are happy!” the older brother grinned, putting his arms around both of them, “You cry so easily, Kiyo. You have a strong, passionate heart and I am proud to call you brother.”

Korekiyo was glad that he was the sort of person to take an emotional response as an answer, as it left him another minute to think. Sister had been relatively quiet throughout his stay here, content to see how things worked out, but her slight anxiety registered in his mind as a warning.

_You must be careful not to disappoint him today. If you’ve committed to this, be brave, sweet Korekiyo. Do not waver. Make us both proud._

“He is ready!” the younger brother told the assembled elders, pulling Korekiyo by the hand to the group, “We can begin?”

They conferred quietly then nodded, and presented the older brother with a small wooden box, containing sharpened seashells, some thin, flat bamboo sticks, twine, a flint, and a small roll of woven bandages. All the necessary supplies.

“Let’s go!” the older brother urged, motioning for Korekiyo and the younger brother to follow behind him to the ceremonial building prepared for the occasion. Once it was so close, it was best to move things along quickly so that Korekiyo would have less time to worry about it. The supervising elder and technician followed as well.

Once there, the younger brother began preparing the scene, starting a fire in the pit, and laying out the supplies, then going to collect a bucket of water, and the older brother began preparing Korekiyo. This process was best carried out in the nude, so he helped Korekiyo out of his clothes first, folding them neatly and sitting them on the ground beside the stone slab where he would rest.

“You’re gaining your weight back,” he prodded gently at Korekiyo’s stomach and hips, “Good to see your health return.” Without comment, he held up a length of straw rope and looked expectantly at Korekiyo.

As they’d discussed, Korekiyo turned away from him and crossed his arms over each other behind his back, keeping them out far enough that he’d be able to easily wind the rope around them to bind them.

“What are these scars from?” he traced one down Korekiyo’s back before beginning.

“Being whipped,” he answered automatically. He was sure that he’d seen them incidentally before, as he was one of the people who’d helped care for him when he was too ill to do anything for himself, but he supposed he hadn’t really been in a position to answer then, and it hadn’t come up since.

“A punishment?” the older brother tied off the rope and helped Korekiyo lie back on the slab, then trailed the two ends of rope off of each side to secure his ankles.

“No,” Korekiyo shivered against the cool stone, “It was an odd custom. To provide detail, it’s a rather long story. I will tell you some other time.”

He finished tying Korekiyo’s ankles and nodded, “Alright. Test the knots for me, give a good struggle.” Part of the point was to show bravery by not struggling, but it was still important to have a safeguard, for both his own safety, and that of the man cutting him.

Korekiyo attempted to rise and kick and found that he could only rock himself against the stone, nothing more.

“Perfect! You are prepared!” he said, “Now, we will start in a minute. I will stand at your shoulders and keep them down. I know you won’t need much help, you’re strong, I see it in your eyes.”

Korekiyo smiled bashfully, feeling more exposed for the lack of a mask than anything else. The affirmation threatened to make him cry again, but he was a bit too anxious to give it its full emotional weight.

The younger brother returned, sat the bucket of water beside everything else, then took his place beside the slab. He was to be more emotional support, making eye contact and encouraging, as well as keeping a hand on Korekiyo’s thigh, in case any kicking got out of hand.

The technician took the sharpened shell, sticks, and twine, and came to stand toward the bottom of the slab. The elder began reciting the traditional piece about manhood, but Korekiyo found that he couldn’t focus on it, instead alternating his attention between the warm, firm hands on his shoulders, the friendly smile looking down at him, and the glistening pink shell. He’d gotten to read the the voiced parts of the ritual beforehand and nobody particularly expected him to be aware of much besides the pain.

The technician took his penis in hand, checking the length of the foreskin. Removing all of it was not as important in this culture as it was many, just enough to be unambiguously visually distinct. That was somewhat fortunate, as some of the gliding mechanism could be preserved, though it would always be compromised. It also simplified the process some as it did not have to be gathered as completely away from the glans.

He guided the first of the bamboo stick against the glans and tucked it under Korekiyo’s foreskin, pushing it as far in as possible. The roughness was uncomfortable, but not enough to provoke a reaction, not when he was braced for so much worse. The technician put in the next beside it, then the next, lining them up all the way around. The bamboo protected the glans from the sharpness of the blade, allowing the cuts to be made with more force. It also provided a rigid surface to tie the foreskin around once it was gathered forward, which made everything a bit more precise.

One he had Korekiyo’s foreskin pulled forward and tied tightly around the bamboo, the technician stepped back, looking at the elder to prompt him to begin the ritual questions.

“Are you ready to begin the next phase of your life?” the elder asked, glancing down at Korekiyo’s face, searching for any trace of reluctance.

“Yes.” He answered immediately, just as rehearsed. His mind was firmly on the impending pain, but he was collected enough to have a conversation, at least.

“Are you ready to take on the responsibilities of a man in this tribe?”

“Yes.” Korekiyo wondered why everything had to be so gendered with this. There was a different rite of passage for girls to mark them as women, it had something to do with their first menstruation and their ability to perform caretaking, he had yet to study it, but all of the adults were expected to do whatever was necessary to protect and take care of the village. Unnecessary gendering wasn’t uncommon worldwide, but he did wonder how this had gotten started.

“Are you ready,” the older brother added, “to take your place as a man of my house?” He smiled down at Korekiyo, gently squeezing his shoulders.

This part hadn’t been rehearsed, Korekiyo hadn’t expected it, and he found himself tearing up again and nodded, “Yes.” This tribe was quite family oriented and there was a very important weight behind his words. He agreed to take responsibility for Korekiyo, only in exchange for his participation in their family life. It was a gesture of intense love.

The younger brother leaned forward and wiped Korekiyo’s tears from his cheeks with his thumbs.

“Then welcome,” the older brother smiled, then nodded to the technician.

Korekiyo watched him return to his place, holding the shell. He felt enormous anxiety, but no prompt to object. This was going to hurt, yes, but it had already been decided. There was no need to protest, his only job was to endure this feeling. He’d had similar experiences in the past, both in other cultural participation and even personally, with Sister. It was relatively easy to give up his voice and simply wait for things to unfold.

The technician took Korekiyo’s penis in hand and quickly drew the sharp edge of the shell across the top of the foreskin and the desired length. With the skin stretched thin and pressed against something solid, it was easy to cut through, but ease of the motion did not translate to any lack of pain.

Korekiyo gritted his teeth and clenched his hands around his forearms under them. The pain was sharp, brilliant in its intensity, and overwhelming. The shell was sharp enough that it was cutting, not tearing, and as such the only noise was a dull slide of the edge again the bamboo.

The technician poured a bit of water over his penis to clear the blood enough to see exactly where to line up to for the second cut. He positioned the shell against the bamboo, in between Korekiyo and the soon to be severed skin, then sliced down the right side so that half of the foreskin was now detached.

Korekiyo’s breath caught in his lungs and he held in there, trembling. Tears were flowing freely down his face, and his abdomen was beginning to ache from the exertion of being so tense.

“Breathe, Kiyo,” the younger brother urged quietly, “It’s alright to react, but don’t resist that way.” It wasn’t a correction, his response was well within what was acceptable, but everyone knew that, while a bit embarrassing, reacting more vocally was healthier for the spirit.

A strangled cry tore its way past Korekiyo’s lips as he released his breath, obeying automatically in this vulnerable state. It hurt. It hurt more than he could handle and it was happening anyway. He began to sob, closing his eyes.

The technician poured water over the area again, then sliced down the left side. Korekiyo’s blood flowed down over the stoned, mixing with the water and pooling between his legs. He groaned and tossed his head from side to side, but held the rest of his body deliberately still. He lifted Korekiyo’s penis to expose the underside, then made the final cut, pulling the foreskin away with the bamboo.

“It hurts, it hurts,” Korekiyo wailed, starting to panic, all the moreso because he felt out of control. He knew what was coming next and he was terrified.

The older brother squeezed Korekiyo’s shoulders firmly, trying to get his attention. “It does hurt. And it’s not over. But you’ve got this.” He wished he’d been able to be there for his younger brother as well, but he hadn’t wanted him present. He was glad to get this experience with Korekiyo, at least.

Korekiyo swallowed with some difficulty and nodded. He just had to endure a bit more. That barely required participation at all. All he had to do was feel it.

_You’re doing so well, little brother. Stay strong._

The technician had tossed the foreskin and bamboo into the fire, an offering to the gods that protected the village, then he got out one of the clean sticks that had been burning towards the bottom. It was merely a glowing ember on the end, perfect for its purpose. The thick scar that marked the end of what was left of the foreskin was part of the aesthetic and burning the wounds closed helped it develop properly as well as stopping the bleeding.

He took his penis in hand and pressed the hot wood against the edge of Korekiyo’s foreskin, left it for a few seconds, then moved a bit to the side and pressed again.

Korekiyo screamed, the sound wordless and desperate. He frantically tried to raise up, but managed to refrain from kicking. The older brother held him firmly in place, pushing down harder. Korekiyo lost track of time, his screams of agony persisting past the point where the technician was done with the burning.

When he stepped away, the older brother helped Korekiyo to sit, taking his knife and cutting the ropes that bound his limbs. He remembered how anxious he’d been to return to being able to move under his own power. He blinked in surprise when Korekiyo’s first action, instead of trying to cover himself or something to reduce the pain was to throw his arms around him and cling.

“I’ve got you, brother,” he patted him soothingly, angling his body to the side so that his younger brother could apply the protective bandages. “I’m proud of you.” 


End file.
